


the yellow sun is setting

by babyiknow



Category: The Half of It (2020)
Genre: F/F, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:13:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25632616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babyiknow/pseuds/babyiknow
Summary: Aster fights her way into college.She fights with her father- arguing about distance, tuition, and whether or not to even go.  She fights with her mother, her sister, and even with Father Shanley.  She’s just about fought out, when a shoulder catches her the wrong way on the walk inside of her dorm building.“Come on,” She mutters, crouching down to gather everything that spilled out of the box she was carrying.  Her eyes are clouding with frustrated tears when a pair of blurry, nimble hands join hers, gathering the last of Aster’s belongings, and settling them in the box.
Relationships: Ellie Chu/Aster Flores
Comments: 13
Kudos: 87





	the yellow sun is setting

Aster fights her way into college. 

She fights with her father- arguing about distance, tuition, and whether or not to even go. She fights with her mother, her sister, and even with Father Shanley. She’s just about fought out, when a shoulder catches her the wrong way on the walk inside of her dorm building. 

_ “Come on,”  _ She mutters, crouching down to gather everything that spilled out of the box she was carrying. Her eyes are clouding with frustrated tears when a pair of blurry, nimble hands join hers, gathering the last of Aster’s belongings, and settling them in the box. 

“Uh, thanks, I-” Aster sniffles, and blinks her eyes to clear them. 

“It’s no problem. The same thing almost happened to me on the way in.” The girl in front of her shrugs, but you can barely see it under her layers of clothing. Her eyes are owlish behind her thick, round-framed glasses. She’s… cute. She has, what looks to be, soft skin, and even softer round cheeks, and her hair is long and silky, albeit tied back in a low ponytail. 

“Um, so, here.” The stranger stands up, brushing her hands on her pants, and moves to grab the box. 

“Oh, hey, you don’t have to-” Aster shakes herself out of her thoughts, standing as well, and the shorter girl gives her a comforting half-smile. 

“I don’t mind. Do you have any other things?” Aster nods, and holds up a finger, before scurrying out the front doors again. 

` She returns with her only other luggage, a large suitcase that her mom found on discount, seams almost split with clothing shoved in at every angle. 

“Thank you,” Aster says again, and she looks down at her boots. “I’m Aster Flores.” Ellie’s eyes widen in recognition, and Aster feels a brief panic arise in her stomach. 

“Oh! I’m-um, I’m Ellie Chu. We’re roommates, I think.” A wave of relief washes over the taller girl, and she feels a grin split her face. 

“Nice. At least we’ve met, then. I’m guessing you’ve already moved in?” Ellie blushes, and moves to walk behind Aster on the staircase. 

“Yeah- um, my dad helped me move in. He’s still here, but he won’t be for much longer- don’t worry.”

“Ellie,” Aster glances behind herself at the shorter girl. “Your dad can stay as long as he likes, it’s okay.” Aster hears Ellie’s sigh, and she lets go of her suitcase when they reach their dorm. Two little flags are stuck on the door, one with “Aster” printed in bubble letters, and one with “Ellie” in block letters. She digs the key out of her pocket, and opens the door. 

“Ellie,  _ Wèishéme huā zhème tráng shíjiān? Wǒmen trứng rán bìxū shezhi hàng bài.”  _ Ellie’s father is turned around, his back facing the door as he fiddles with what looks to be a hamper attached to a little storage unit, and Ellie blushes again. 

She sets the box down gingerly on Aster’s side of the room, and walks over to her father.  _ “Ba, hēi, zhuǎnshēn. Zhè shì wǒ de shìyǒu Aster. Wǒ zài bāng tā ná xínglǐ. Tā rén hěn hǎo.  _ Aster, this is my dad,  _ Ba,  _ this is Aster.” Ellie looks oddly defensive, and Aster feels a brief confusion before holding out her hand. 

“Hi, Mr. Chu.” Ellie’s father smiles, and takes her hand to shake. His hands are calloused, but clean, and warm, like Ellie’s. 

“Call me Edwin. It is nice to meet you.” Aster smiles back, and nods, tucking her hair behind her ear nervously. 

“Nice to meet you too, Mr- Edwin.” Aster glances at Ellie, who no longer looks defensive, but surprised. 

“Alright, well,  _ wǒ yīnggāi zǒule. Cuì jú sìhū shìgè hǎo nǚhái. Nín kěyǐ zìjǐ shezhi lán kuāng ma?”  _ Mr. Chu turns back to Ellie, and Ellie breaks her gaze from Aster. She nods, and folds her arms around him, gently. 

_ “Wǒmen huì méishì de. Lǚtú yúkuài, yào ānquán. Ài nǐ.”  _ Ellie says quietly, and just like that, it’s just Ellie and her again. 

There’s an awkward pause after Mr. Chu leaves, but it only lasts a second, when something catches Aster’s eye on Ellie’s desk. 

_ “Remains of the Day?  _ I loved that book! All that barely repressed longing.” She rolls her eyes at the last bit, and watches recognition bloom on Ellie’s face.

“Really?” Aster nods, and it’s like something opens up behind Ellie’s eyes. “You know, I loved the book,  _ completely _ , but the casting-” 

“Oh, don’t get me  _ started!  _ They didn’t  _ have  _ to choose creepy old  _ Hannibal Lecter _ to play one of my favorite roles of all time! Ugh- I really- I can’t talk about it, it gets me too hot.” Ellie laughs, a little higher-pitched snorting thing, and Aster’s stomach jumps at the sound. 

_ “God,  _ I know, and Emma Thompson is just-  _ so  _ out of his league, I’m sorry.” Aster’s laugh busts out, and before she knows it, they dissolve into fits of random laughter, everytime launched by a short comment about the  _ Hannibal  _ guy, or a brief reference to  _ Silence of the Lambs.  _

_ “Okay,  _ enough, enough.” Aster gasps, leaning back on her mattress, clutching her stomach. “I  _ need  _ to unpack.” 

“I can help you, I’m pretty much done, myself.” Ellie sheds her jacket, and tightens her ponytail. 

“Thank you, um, could you-” She gestures to the box, and Ellie nods, unfolding the top flaps. 

They move efficiently, Aster unpacking her clothes, while directing Ellie where to put her other things, like school supplies, and laundry detergent. 

“Well that didn’t take long.” Ellie mutters, after a good half-hour of unpacking, stowing Aster’s empty suitcase in her closet, behind her dresses, and folding the box flat. 

“No it didn’t. We make a good team, in my opinion.” Aster smirks cheekily at the shorter girl, who rolls her eyes, her lip tugging upwards. 

“I guess so. You’re not the roommate I was expecting.” Aster raises an eyebrow in question. 

“What kind of roommate were you expecting? Hopefully, I don’t disappoint.” She plops down on her red duvet, and Ellie scoffs. 

` “As if. Come on, you’re a light packer, and you don’t complain about which bed you get. Plus, you’ve read _Remains of the Day.”_ Aster blushes, and grins proudly. 

“Yeah, I guess I’m like the whole package.” Ellie shrugs, nodding, and turns to fiddle with her hamper. Aster’s stomach flips, and she smiles to herself. 

“Just don’t wake me up early!” 

  
  


Aster can’t really exaggerate when she says she  _ loves  _ college. It was a bit tough, at first, getting over the initial insecurity and awkwardness of finding her classes, using public restrooms, and living with an entirely new person, but after a month in, she’s found her groove. 

She’s making A’s in all her courses, except Calculus 1, which she was required to take and actively acts like it doesn’t exist outside itself. The art studios at Grinnell are breathtaking, at least to her, and every day she learns a new skill. 

And Ellie, good, supportive Ellie, doesn’t complain, or really say a word when Aster brings home various pieces she’s made, filling the room with the light smell of drying oil paint, as well as several bursts of color. Aster’s particularly timid to bring home a small sculpture she’s just finished, a small abstract bust that she’s not incredibly proud of. She’s contemplating whether to find a place for it on her overcrowded desk, or toss it, when Ellie gets back from her Literary Analysis class. 

“What’s that?” She asks casually, tossing her keys on her desk, and walking up to the taller girl. 

“Oh, it’s- nothing, I just made it in Ceramics. It’s not super good, I might toss it.” Ellie’s eyes widen impossibly underneath her glasses, and she looks up at Aster alarmedly. 

“What? No.” She takes the bust gently from Aster’s hands. “You  _ made  _ this.” Aster laughs. 

“Ellie, if I kept everything I make, I’d have no space! I’m already running out here.” She gestures to her desk, and the shelf above her bed, and Ellie’s eyes flick over them nervously. 

“Well, here.” She settles the bust onto her own desk, almost protectively. “This can stay here. Don’t throw away your work, Aster. It’s not something that you can replace.” A tingle runs up Aster’s spine, Ellie’s words rushing over her like a bucket of cold water. No one had ever really been supportive of her art before, besides her high school Painting teacher who encouraged her to fill out an application. 

“I- um.” She shakes her head, words bumbling around in her brain. “Okay. Um.” Her eyes cloud a bit, and Ellie’s eyes are so honest, and genuine, and Aster can hardly look at them. She crosses the room, and throws her arms around Ellie’s shoulders. The shorter girl tenses, and Aster worries she’s crossed a line, but then Ellie’s nimble arms wrap surely around Aster’s waist. 

“Thank you, Ellie.” She pushes her face into Ellie’s shoulder, and she can feel Ellie’s sigh against her collarbone. They break apart after what seems like a few minutes, and Aster feels a cold sense of loss without Ellie’s arms around her. Ellie clears her throat, and gestures back to her desk, unloading her backpack onto it. Aster chuckles, and walks back over to her bed, plopping down onto it. But she watches Ellie for a long time afterwards, and tries to untangle the twists in her stomach from the hug they shared. And she notices that Ellie stares at the sculpture for a long time afterwards, as well. 

Things were easy before, but after the whole sculpture-escapade, things become almost effortless. It’s as if Aster and Ellie share half a mind, memorizing each other’s schedules, and attaching themselves somewhat at the hip. 

They grab coffee in the time before Ellie’s first class and after Aster’s. They study in the library after dinner, and Ellie goes to Aster’s showcases and intramural volleyball games. Aster learns that Ellie’s a friend of discretion. In fact, if Aster didn’t really know her, she wouldn’t even know if Ellie  _ liked _ her. 

She’ll wave when Aster sees her, a short raise of a hand, a flat smile gracing her lips, just the corners upturned. She’s casual, both in wardrobe and mannerisms, but Aster picks up on her displays of affection quickly, in the way Ellie always makes room for her on a dining hall bench, or in her lofted twin bed on movie nights. Or in the way that Ellie slides her notes over to copy when Aster is late to their shared English class(which she rarely is) without a word. Aster collects and files these little shows of fondness in her brain like notecards, to flip through whenever her professors bore her too much. 

Ellie receives affection in about the same frequency that she hands it out. She’ll tense when Aster rubs her back, or touches her arm, but she’ll settle into it after a second. The taller girl always gauges Ellie’s reactions to her physicality, knowing she can be a touchy person at times, but Ellie rarely shows much, if any discomfort when it’s Aster’s hands on her. 

_ And,  _ Aster can’t help but feel a little bit special when she spots Ellie across the quad shrugging off the arm that another girl tries to wrap around her. She continues to walk towards the shorter girl, waiting for the conversation between her roommate and her random classmate to end, so they can go to lunch. She watches the classmate, a thin blonde girl with ripped black jeans and a sleeveless top touch Ellie’s arm, and Aster’s throat constricts uncomfortably. She looks away, not wanting to intrude, but a voice interrupts her fidgeting after a minute.

“Hey, you ready?” Ellie shrugs her backpack off her shoulders, pulling her ID card out of a pocket. She looks up at Aster expectantly. Aster blinks, glancing back at where the thin blonde is standing, a confused and disappointed look on her face. 

“Uh, yeah,” Her arm brushes Ellie’s as they walk to the dining hall. “Who was that, um, girl you were talking to? Back there?” Ellie looks at her shoes, and picks at her cuticles a bit. 

“She’s a classmate. Emily. She was-” She clears her throat. “She was asking me out.” She looks up at Asters sharp intake of breath, and Aster’s heart nearly breaks at the scrambling fear in the shorter girl’s large eyes. 

“Is that- I mean, is that a problem?” Ellie’s hands fidget more, and she’s babbling on, searching for words, and Aster grabs her fingers, stopping Ellie’s movement and rambles. 

“Is what a problem?” Aster asks, turning to face her roommate. Ellie swallows thickly, and her hands tremble in Aster’s. 

“That-um. I’m- I like girls?” She visibly braces herself, and Aster laughs, breathlessly. 

“Ellie, of course not! I didn’t- I’m sorry, I thought you were asking my permission to go out on a date with the girl! If I ever said something to make you uncomfortable telling me, I’m sorry-” Ellie shakes her head insistently. 

“You didn't, it's just- I saw the cross on your necklace, and you’re kind of like, the first person I’ve ever told, so.” 

Aster blinks, and she feels so  _ wired,  _ like she has something to say, but can’t think of the words, like a circuit that’s just been lit up, and she wraps her arms around Ellie’s waist, burying her nose into Ellie’s hair. 

“Thank you, for trusting me. I could never judge you, least of all for who you  _ love.”  _ Aster feels Ellie raise up on her toes to wrap her arms around Aster’s neck, and Aster sighs audibly, silently wishing she could hug the shorter girl forever, because Ellie just gives the  _ best  _ hugs. 

They head to lunch, a seemingly arbitrary action after such a charged moment, and Aster can feel a buzzing sort of energy between them, like those magnets that sizzle when they snap together. 

But something has changed, she can tell. Like the last lock had been picked, and she knows Ellie feels the same, from the way the smaller girl looks at her periodically, like she’s seeing her in a new light, and by the way she sits infinitesimally closer to Aster, their arms brushing every so often. 

  
  


“This is… coming along well.” Professor De Leon says, coming up behind Aster’s easel. Aster jumps, and pulls out an earbud, smiling sheepishly at her professor. 

“Sorry! And thank you, I’ve been trying to follow the prompt- but-” Professor De Leon shakes her head, smiling. 

“The prompts are really just for inspiration, for those who have trouble drawing it from themselves. What was your inspiration, Aster?” Aster looks down, blushing, and her professor raises her eyebrows. 

“If it’s private, you don’t have to tell me, Ms. Flores.” Aster shakes her head. 

“No, um. It’s inspired by my friend, she just- well, she’s just really amazing, you know? And kind, and understanding, and special. I don’t know, it’s-” She cuts herself off, fidgeting with her paintbrush. The canvas, as well as her hands, are stained orange and pink, with a familiar figure in the middle, reaching. 

“It’s alright, Ms. Flores. Sometimes our emotions hit us before we know completely what they are. What’s important is that you keep expressing them. If you don’t have skin in the game, you can’t win.” Aster nods, and turns back to her canvas, taking a breath. Professor De Leon moves on to the next student, readjusting their brushstrokes, and Aster relaxes her tensed muscles. She plugs her other earbud back into her ear, and dips her brush back into the yellow. She supposes she doesn’t have to figure out what she’s feeling quite yet. She has time. 

Paul worms his way into Ellie’s life almost as quick as Aster had, following her around like a lost puppy. Aster learns it’s because of a partner project, in creative writing, where they have to write autobiographies about one another. The tall boy infiltrates their table at mealtime, and Aster only warms up to him once Ellie belly-laughs at one of his jokes, leaning her head on Aster’s shoulder for support. 

Aster supposes if Ellie’s making friends, she should too, (she ignores Paul’s exclamation of ‘hey, I’m your friend too!’) She decides to attend a project house party, Grinnell’s equivalent to frats, and she regrets it almost the second she walks in. 

The first floor reeks of alcohol, and the music sounds loud and rhythmless in Aster’s ears. An arm wraps around her shoulders from behind, and she looks to her left to see a tall,  _ big  _ guy smirking at her under the flashing lights. 

_ Okay,  _ she thinks,  _ I can work with this. This is the kind of guy I used to like in high school.  _ She ignores the twisting in her belly at the thought of the guys she used to like in high school. 

“My name’s Trig.” He doesn’t ask hers, but she responds with a short, “Aster.” He grins, and she decides to see what happens. 

Aster’s always been a first-move type of person. She’s been an on-top, take-charge, head-of-the-group girl. Her parents always told her to be a leader, and she never failed to take that advice. 

Trig kisses her at the end of the night, for the first time, and it feels… off. Maybe it’s because he opened the door for her, or maybe it’s because he made their drinks, or maybe it’s because  _ he  _ kisses  _ her.  _ She kisses him back, and it feels better, but she still feels under his thumb, like a bird in a cage. She breaks the kiss, and leaves him there on the first floor, ignoring his impatient look. 

She returns to her dorm, barely buzzed, the wind stinging her cheeks red. The room is quiet, save for Ellie’s quick fingers on her keyboard, typing a paper for English that Aster knows is due in half a week. 

“Have fun?” Ellie spins around in her chair, looking at Aster expectantly, taking off her glasses to wipe them on her shirt. And she can’t explain it, she doesn’t know what it is about the  _ simplicity  _ with which Ellie moves, or the ease that Aster feels in front of her, but she knows that it’s something. And not something to be ignored. 

“It was alright,” She shrugs. “Not something I’d do again.  _ Unless…”  _ Ellie flattens her lips, shaking her head. 

“No, Aster, I already told you, I can’t dance,  _ and _ my face gets all red when I’m drunk.” Aster gasps. 

“Why, Ellie!” She walks over, plopping on the shorter girl’s bed. “You never told me you’ve gotten,” She gasps dramatically, “- _ drunk,  _ before?” Ellie blushes in embarrassment. 

“Yeah, um, have you ever played  _ Drinkers of Catan?”  _ Aster stares blankly, in awe of her. “I didn’t think so.” She turns back to her laptop, and Aster laughs to herself about the girl in front of her, who gets drunk playing  _ board games,  _ who orders black coffee, and reads thick, complex books, who keeps Aster’s sculptures on her desk next to her pencil cup, and her dry-erase calendar. 

“God,  _ Ellie Chu.”  _ She smiles, as Ellie dutifully ignores her, typing away, as Aster’s stomach flips into her throat like she’s riding a rollercoaster. 

  
  


Paul’s birthday falls on the day before Halloween, and his one wish is to go to the campus-wide Halloween party in the quad with Ellie, as well as with couples-costumes. 

“Paul, we’re not even a  _ couple.  _ I don’t see why we have to wear  _ couples costumes!”  _ Aster hears Ellie’s whining coming from outside the door, and she sees Ellie’s key twist in the lock. 

“Ellie,” Paul’s voice, full-force as Ellie gets the door open, “it’s because of the prize! Best couples’ costume wins a hundred dollars!” Ellie rolls her eyes, sharing a quick glance with Aster as greeting. 

“I vote you guys dress as salt and pepper shakers.” Aster chimes in, and Ellie glares at her. 

“Not helping, Flores.” the shorter girl steps in front of Paul. “Fine,  _ fine,  _ I’ll wear a costume of your choice, and-” she hushes Paul’s exclamation, “-and  _ my approval.”  _

“I vote a horse!” Aster peeks over the edge of her bed. 

“That’s it, Flores, you’re going shopping with us for that one.” Aster claps her hands, jumping up. 

The Halloween-themed pop-up store is actually pretty big, costumes ranging from ‘sexy nurse’ to ‘Batman” and ‘decapitated zombie’. Aster pulls costume after costume off the shelves for Ellie to try on, and Paul picks even more. 

“Oh, El, you’d look hot in this!” 

“Paul, I don’t want to look  _ hot,  _ I want a hundred dollars!” 

When they finally reach the dressing rooms, Aster spreads herself over the couch in front of them. 

“Fashion show!” She squeals, and Ellie just looks tired. The first costume is simple, an angel and a devil, and Ellie vetoes it quickly, because the white dress is too thin, and the feathers won’t sit right on her head. 

The next costume is funny, simply in the way that Aster has to help Ellie pull the gory mask off her face, and the way the shorter girl’s hair looks afterwards. 

The third costume is, well… it’s Batman and Catwoman, and Aster can’t really decipher why her mouth runs dry at the sight of Ellie’s legs in the vinyl bodysuit, stretched tight over the muscles, or why her hands shake when Ellie asks her to zip the back. 

But she also catches Ellie’s sharp intake of breath when Aster’s knuckles ghost over her spine, and she smiles in her silent victory. She doesn’t know exactly what she’s victorious of, but she’ll figure it out another day. 

Paul seems to be having the same problem she is, though, his eyes wide and stuck on the shiny material, and Aster clears her throat loudly, forcing her gaze away. Aster would approve the costume immediately, as she knows it’s going to be a shoo-in if Ellie shows up in  _ this,  _ but the shorter girl fidgets uncomfortably, and Aster vetoes it purely because of the girl’s anxious glance at her. 

The two try on a few more costumes, all vetoed on the basis of being ‘too basic’ or ‘too revealing’. It’s Paul versus Ellie most times, but Aster voices her opinion every once in a while,  _ especially _ her approval on the Bob Ross and Painting costume. 

“Okay, guys, a couple more, and then we give up.” Aster yawns, leaning her head on her hands. This time, it’s different, and Paul exits the dressing room with a grin on his face. His costume is striped and fuzzy, and it’s only obvious what it is when Ellie steps out.

“I mean, it’s better than the other ones.” She shrugs, but Aster notices she’s not tugging on any hems, or fidgeting, and she nods. 

“I like this one too.”  _ And so what, if she admires the snug fit of the waistcoat underneath the jacket, or the way the jacket hugs her arms.  _

“You know, Ellie, if you were the Mad Hatter, you wouldn’t be mad, as in crazy, you’d just be mad. Like, angry.” Paul’s voice cuts through Aster’s gaze, and she laughs tiredly at the stupid joke. 

“No, he’s right. Let’s go, I’m hungry.” Ellie changes back into her jeans and sweatshirt quickly, and she pays for the costumes. Paul hugs her tightly, lifting her up off of her toes, and she pounds his back to set her down. 

“It’s your birthday!” She protests, but Aster sees the small grin twitching the side of her lip up. 

“Come on, or else you’re paying for dinner.” Paul sets her down quickly, and jogs to the car. 

“Thanks for coming.” Ellie yawns, gravitating towards Aster, and the taller girl loops their arms together. 

“I had fun. Besides, you rock a mean Mad Hatter.” Ellie blushes, and leans her head on Aster’s shoulder. 

“You have to dress up too- don’t forget.” 

  
  


They can hear the party from their dorm as they get ready, heavy bass pumping through the speakers across campus. Ellie’s in her costume, sitting dutifully still as Aster crimps her hair. 

“It already looks so good, you’re gonna totally win.” Aster grabs another silky lock, and relishes the feel of finally getting to play with it. “You should wear your hair down more often. It looks… pretty.” Ellie scoffs. “What?” 

“No-nothing. Thank you. Just,” She pauses thoughtfully. 

“What is it?” She twists a strand of hair around her finger. 

“No one’s called me pretty before. It’s new.” Aster gapes, dropping the strand from her fingers. 

“Seriously?” She moves to stand in front of Ellie, who looks back up at her in confusion. 

“Yes?” Aster scoffs, rolling her eyes. She continues crimping Ellie’s hair, but the words are still bothering her. 

“Nobody? Not even your mom? Your dad? Your friends?” Ellie sighs, and Aster feels her shoulders tense. 

“My mom died when I was seven, and my dad, well, he doesn’t really care what I look like. Not- okay, that sounds bad. He’s only ever been in love with my mom, and he doesn’t really notice beauty in others. Or- physical beauty. Not that I’m beautiful- but. You know. And as for friends, I wasn’t really envied much, being the only Chinese- or, only non-white person in my town, besides my dad. So, no, not anybody, really.” Aster sets the straightening iron down, and pulls Ellie over to her bed. 

“Ellie- I. I just.” She runs her hands through her hair, frustrated with herself and her own lack of words, and Ellie shakes her head, holding them in her own. 

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have just dumped that on you. You don’t have to say anything, really. It’s a lot to hear all at once.” 

“No- I have to- Ellie, I’m so sorry about your mom, and your dad, and those  _ shitty  _ assholes in your hometown, but you have to know, you’re beautiful. You’re absolutely beautiful. I’m serious.” Ellie blushes, looking at her hands in her lap, and-sure. She looks a  _ little  _ silly, with her hair half-crimped, and the full makeup look that Aster painted on her face, but she’s beautiful still. And it  _ aches  _ in Aster’s heart that she grew up feeling like she wasn’t. 

“You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.” The words rush out of her, like they were punched out of her chest, and she feels strained, like she’s holding something back. Ellie breathes in sharply, and if Aster was paying attention to anything other than Ellie’s wide, searching eyes, she’d notice Ellie moving microscopically closer, like her heart is tugging their chests together. 

“I guess you haven’t seen a mirror recently,” Ellie jokes halfheartedly, her mouth barely quirking up, and Aster’s eyelids feel heavy with longing. 

“Ellie-” 

“You guys ready?” Paul knocks the door open, and Aster curses herself for not locking it. She puts some distance between herself and the shorter girl, who blinks as if she’s stepped out of a movie theater on a bright, sunny day. 

“Finish your hair, Ellie! We have a contest to win! Aster, you look great.” Aster shrugs, and takes a strand of Ellie’s hair back in her hand, ignoring the urge to sink her hands into the mess of it and  _ tug.  _ She had pulled out an old costume from two years ago, Superwoman, one that she’s never worn, due to her father’s refusal as soon as she stepped out in it. 

But her father’s not here now, and she feels a mix of adrenaline and desire wash over her when Ellie’s eyes rake up her legs, covered in sheer gold tights. 

Ellie loses her hat directly after she and Paul step up on the podium to be judged, and Aster thinks she sees a cheerleader across the quad wearing it later, but that may just be the alcohol playing tricks on her mind. It’s been awhile since she’s gotten properly buzzed, but she matches her drinks with Ellie and Paul, and realizes Ellie’s much more of a lightweight than she thought. And where Ellie lacks in sobriety, she more than makes up for in party-girl energy. The smaller girl is easily drunker than Aster or Paul, but she drags them to the middle of the quad, her uptight limbs loosening to the music, and Aster  _ so  _ needs to get Ellie drunk more often if she gets to see the shorter girl move like this. It’s almost hypnotizing, and when Ellie’s back winds up pressed to Aster’s front, she decides she needs to be  _ much  _ more intoxicated for any of this to make sense. 

The lukewarm tequila blurs Aster’s brain enough for her to drag her hands up Ellie’s hips to rest on her waist, and she’s either forgotten about Paul, or he’s left, because all she can focus on is the way Ellie leans into her touch, into the music, and they’re moving in pure harmony. She’s never felt like this before, and when Ellie grabs her thigh, tracing her nimble fingers along the line of the taller girl’s body until she’s cupping her cheek, Aster figures it out.  _ Fuck. She likes Ellie. Her roommate. A girl. Her best friend.  _ A girl. 

  
  


The next morning is a mess between a pounding headache, and the remnants of some Kanye West song thumping in her eardrums. She doesn’t remember much, besides getting ready, Paul and Ellie winning second-runner-up to a couple of insanely decked-out astronauts, Ellie dancing, and taking shot after shot of various alcohols until everything blurred together. 

She hears the door open quietly, despite the scraping of Ellie’s key in the lock, and she pulls a pillow over her head and groans. 

“Um- here-” Ellie pads lightly over to Aster’s bedside, placing a few pills and a glass of water, as well as a hot coffee from the Starbucks across the street, and Aster thanks her lucky stars that the shorter girl didn’t go to the cafeteria for coffee. 

“You’re a  _ doll,  _ Ellie Chu.” She blinks her heavily-mascaraed eyes, and Ellie looks at her in confusion, slightly, before the expression fades into one more of resignation. 

“What’s wrong?” She mumbles, voice muffled by the water glass, and Ellie shakes her head, squaring her shoulders. 

“Nothing, just-” She gestures to her head, “Headache. And, um, class. Early.” Aster nods, and suddenly, she remembers. 

“Class? Oh my god, it’s Tuesday! My seven o’ clock!” She checks her phone, squinting into the bright light. It reads eleven. Ellie waves her hand. 

“I was up pretty early this morning, I stopped by the Arts building. I told Professor De Leon you had food poisoning. She’s nice.” Aster relaxes back into her pillows, and smiles. 

“That’s it.” Ellie frowns. 

“What’s it?” 

“Come here.” Aster reaches her arms up towards the shorter girl, who hesitates. “Come  _ on,  _ I know for a fact you don’t have another class until three. Come nap with me.” Ellie relents, after a moment of Aster’s grabby hands, and she kicks off her shoes before laying down under Aster’s outstretched arm. She’s tense, like she’s trying to preserve her personal space in the tiny twin bed they’re situated in. 

_ “Relax,  _ Ellie. I won’t bite.” She drags the hair tie out of Ellie’s ponytail, and watches Ellie’s eyes glaze as she runs her fingers through the thick locks. 

“That’s it.” She continues playing with Ellie’s silky waves until the shorter girl’s head drops against her shoulder, quiet snores lulling Aster to sleep herself. 

  
  


She wakes again to her alarm, the pounding in her head sufficiently subsided, and a sticky-note pressed to her bedside table. 

_ Had to meet Paul in library. Be back soon!  _

_ Love, Ellie _

Aster smiles, and she tucks the note into her signed copy of  _ Remains of the Day.  _ She knows it’s just an obligatory sign-off, but she can’t help but fantasize of a life where they would write each other letters, signing each one with  _ love,  _ like they meant it. 

Aster likes Ellie. Aster likes Ellie. Aster. Ellie. Aster. Ellie. She flops over on her back, throwing a hand over her eyes, and replays the words in her brain. Their names sound good together, like the name of a Mom-and-Pop store, or like  _ Thelma and Louise.  _ Without the cliff-diving, of course. 

She thinks about Ellie, of the different sides of her, like a dice. She’s smart, intelligent, but not effortlessly so. A hard worker. Someone her father would encourage her to be friends with back in San Francisco. She’s funny, and fun, and despite her characteristically uptight nature, Aster sees the spontaneous side, the  _ fuck-it  _ side, one that rears its delightful head only once in a while, but never fails to steal the show when it does. 

Most of all, Ellie is kind. Affectionate. Loving. Aster sees it in the way she restocks the granola bars and cereal when she finishes them, or in the way she helps Paul figure out his essay topics, or when she stands on her toes, reaching higher and higher to find wall space for Aster’s paintings, their walls already riddled with stick-on hangers and tape. 

Her stomach pulls again when she thinks of a side of Ellie yet to show, the side that shivered when Aster brushed her spine, the side that raked over her gold- tinted thighs. 

_ God,  _ she needs to stop thinking about Ellie, before she gets too worked up. Her heart beats fast at the thought of the shorter girl though, and once she starts, she can’t stop imagining Ellie underneath her, staring up at her with the same look in her eyes that she had on Halloween- and, she drifts her hand under the covers, gasping when she feels herself through her pajama pants. 

She inhales sharply, and it doesn’t take long at all until she’s panting, her flush spreading redness down to her chest. Her stomach tenses, and she’s falling over the edge with a breathless gasp of Ellie’s name. When her breathing finally regulates, she understands. She has to tell Ellie. She has to tell Ellie soon. 

_ Shit.  _

  
  


Aster rakes a hand through her hair, deciding to tie it on top of her head in a bun instead. It’s irritating her today. Correction:  _ everything  _ is irritating her today. She hasn’t seen Ellie since the night before, who only managed a clipped  _ goodnight _ before heading to bed early. She was gone when Aster woke up, and her morning was skewed when Ellie didn’t pick her up from her first class to get coffees. 

“Ms. Flores. You seem exceptionally…  _ inspired  _ today.” Professor De Leon stands behind her, folding her hands behind her back. Aster frowns, taking a step back and actually  _ looking  _ at her painting for the first time today. She blew off lunch in favor of spending it in the studio, taking her aggressions out in blues and angry black streaks. It’s almost surrealist, with the makings of a face amongst blurry geometrics, but it’s just too chaotic to be considered as such. 

It’s not a  _ bad  _ painting, by any means, but it still sends a sharp pang to her gut. It just reinforces her emotions, and she draws her brows in. 

“It’s been a frustrating morning.” She quips simply, and Professor De Leon nods. 

“I’ve had a few of those myself, recently. Maybe Mars is in retrograde. Anything you’d like to discuss?” She sinks down onto a stool, and she’s just old enough, with just dark enough hair to look similar to Aster’s own mother. She shrugs, but turns away from the canvas. 

“My best friend-” 

“Ah, the one who covered for you skipping class on Tuesday. Respectful, that one.” Aster nods, relenting the small truth.

“Yeah, um, I think she’s avoiding me. Well, okay, so-” Aster pauses, trying to gather her thoughts.

“Oh, well that’s not good. How long has this been going on?” Aster blushes sheepishly.

“Just this morning. But- listen, we usually hang out like all the time. We get coffee after your class, and then we either go back to the dorms, or to the library, and then we head to lunch. But today, she just- didn’t.” Aster gestures frantically, trying to convey the validity of her emotions, but her professor just nods understandingly. 

“It’s okay, Aster. You’re allowed to feel the way you do. In fact, many people have been in positions similar to yours. But my one piece of advice to you, as it has been to many others: is to  _ talk  _ it out. Figure out  _ just  _ what you’re feeling, maybe write something down that you’d like to say, then meet with the person, and tell them what’s going on. Expressing your emotions through art only takes you so far, you have to be able to be open, even if a bit confrontational. You can’t bottle things up- that ruins relationships.” Professor De Leon rubs her arm comfortingly, and starts helping Aster clean her brushes. “I think you’ve worked enough on this one today. You can come back and see what you think of it tomorrow.” She pulls the canvas off of the easel, gingerly placing it on the drying rack. 

“Thank you, professor. I’m going to- I’ll try to talk to her tonight.” Her professor smiles, patting her shoulder. 

“You’ll do great, I’m sure of it.” 

  
  


Aster paces around her room, across the grey shag carpet that Ellie purchased two weeks ago to keep their feet off the freezing floors of the dorm. She can’t help but stress a little, because it’s eight, and Ellie’s usually back by seven when she studies after dinner. She rakes a hand through her already wild hair, and the sound of Ellie’s key scraping against the lock makes her jump. 

The shorter walks in, dragging her feet, and Aster turns toward her, like a deer caught in the headlights. She feels like a fish out of water, having never been in a position where she’s liked someone else so much, least of all a  _ girl,  _ to where she’d risk their friendship just to tell them. 

“-Aster?” She blinks, realizing Ellie’s been saying her name.

“Uh, yeah- sorry.” She finally looks at the shorter girl, and immediately notices the dark circles underneath her eyes, and her slumped posture. “Hey, are you okay?” 

“Um,  _ yeah,  _ I just had a hard day.” Ellie sighs, a puff of air that says it all, in the way it seems to deflate her, and she sinks onto her bed, looking at her hands. 

“Ellie, what’s wrong? Seriously, you look like-” Aster cuts herself off, sitting next to the small girl on her bed. She wraps a comforting arm around Ellie’s shoulders. 

“I already know I look like shit, thanks.” Ellie snaps, but she softens after a moment. “I’m sorry, I know that’s not what you meant.”

_ “Hey,  _ it’s okay. I just wanna know what happened, because it seems like you  _ feel  _ like shit.” She rubs Ellie’s arm, and the shorter girl sinks into the touch. 

“It’s-um, Paul. He tried to-” She gestures vaguely to her mouth, and Aster’s eyes widen.

“He tried to  _ kiss  _ you?”  _ That bastard,  _ she thinks. Ellie sniffs, and Aster’s arm drops around her waist, pulling her closer, so that Ellie’s nearly in her lap. Her roommate turns her head into Aster’s shoulder, pressing her nose into her collarbone. 

“Yeah, well- he doesn’t know about me. Well,  _ didn’t.  _ He does now.” Aster inhales sharply, and grabs Ellie’s hand with her free one. 

“Did he- he didn’t make you, did he? What did he say?” Aster’s brain is traveling faster than a bullet train, and most of her thoughts are circulating around how to beat Paul’s ass when she sees him next. 

“I- I told him after he tried, like- I thought it would make him feel better, to know I just  _ couldn’t-  _ but.” Ellie pauses, and wipes her nose on her sleeve, looking miserably up at Aster. “He called me a  _ sinner.  _ He said I was going to  _ hell.”  _ Aster gasps, opening her mouth to speak. She’s about to  _ rip  _ into Paul, call him every name in the book, but one look at Ellie, she knows that’s not what the girl needs. 

Aster scoots back on the bed, until her back hits the headboard. “Come here.” Ellie relents quickly, crawling up towards her, and draping her body over Aster’s. The taller girl tries not to burn in every place Ellie touches her, because  _ right now is so not the time, Flores.  _ Ellie’s head rests on her chest, and she pulls the hair tie out of her hair, and runs her fingers through Ellie’s silky black locks. 

“You know, I used to believe everything I heard in church, too. Everything I saw on TV. When my family moved to San Francisco, from our little Sacramento suburb, I had half a mind to condemn nearly everyone I saw walking down the street.” Ellie snorts, a little, and Aster smiles at the sound, twisting a silken lock around her finger. “Yes, while funny now, I got in  _ quite _ a bit of trouble with my dad, for just  _ spouting  _ what I heard in church, in means of explaining  _ why.  _ My father’s a deacon, Ellie. But he never let me just  _ memorize  _ God’s teachings. He wanted me to interpret and understand the Word for myself, instead of just fearing and failing, you know?” Ellie nods, and traces her thumb around Aster’s wrist. 

“I never had to fear for my acceptance, or for what God might think of me. And I know you don’t believe in Him, but I’m trying to say- you shouldn’t have to fear the judgement of people who do, you know? If people well and truly understand His Word, you won’t have to fear their rejection of who you are. Christianity shouldn’t be about fear, it should be about love. And anyone who knows you, knows you have plenty of that to give.” Ellie sniffles, and hugs her arms around Aster’s waist. 

“Thank you- I, you’re so amazing, Aster.” Her voice is awed, breathless, and Aster kisses the crown of her head. 

“Well,  _ I know,  _ but it’s nice to hear you say it.” She smiles at Ellie’s scoff, and Aster decides to tell her another night, because why ruin a perfectly good moment? Especially when Ellie’s glasses are pressing lightly into her pulse point, and she can feel the shorter girl’s breath on her chest. 

Aster spots Paul across the quad a few days later, her hands occupied with two Starbucks coffees for her and Ellie, and it seems like he sees her too. He begins to walk towards her, and Aster just narrows her eyes, and flips her hair over her shoulder, continuing down the path to the library, where good, solid Ellie is waiting for her, her cute little nose buried in a book. 

“Aster, wait!” Paul calls, and Aster almost growls when he touches her shoulder to get her attention. 

“Don’t touch me!” She whirls around to face him, and he swipes his hand away like she burned him. She wishes she did. 

“Aster, listen, I know I said the wrong thing-” Aster’s glare deepens.

“Do you know that? Do you really understand? Because I don’t know if you do, Munsky.” She sneers, and Paul steps back. 

“No, I don’t think you do. Because Ellie’s been- she’s-” Aster’s mind jumbles, as it often does when she’s talking, or thinking about her roommate. “She’s kind, and understanding, and she was the  _ perfect  _ friend to you. You know, sometimes I didn’t understand  _ why _ she was your friend. But you made her laugh, and that was enough for me. Now I know I was right to wonder.  _ God _ , Paul.” She shakes her head, and Paul opens his mouth to speak again.

“No- you- no more talking! I have to meet Ellie in the library, and I’m already late. If you want to  _ apologize  _ to her, and  _ admit you were wrong,  _ you can find her yourself. But if you think I’m gonna do it for you? No way.” She turns away, ignoring Paul’s wounded face.  _ He deserves it.  _ She thinks, and opens the door to the library precariously, still balancing their coffees in her hands. Ellie, just as she suspected, is sitting at a discreet, corner table, her nose almost touching the page of her book, as she follows along with her finger. 

Aster, careful not to startle her, sets the cup down lightly in front of Ellie, and the shorter girl looks up, smiling when she sees who it is. 

“Thanks, Aster.” Aster just smiles back, forcing her gaze from Ellie’s eyes, dimples, lips, to a safer territory. 

“What’re you reading?” Ellie blinks, and follows Aster’s eyes. 

“Oh!  _ Cymbeline.  _ It’s for my Intro to Shakespeare class. Not as good as A Midsummer Night’s Dream, but far better than Romeo and Juliet.” 

“Hey, I liked Romeo and Juliet!” Ellie rolls her eyes. 

“You would.” Aster smiles, sitting down across from her roommate. She fiddles with her hands. 

“What is it?” Ellie takes a sip from her cup, and Aster admires how she doesn’t flinch from the bitter taste. 

“Nothing.” She shakes her head, and Ellie narrows her eyes. 

“Aster…” Aster sighs, and Ellie just watches her in confusion. 

“I saw Paul on the way here.” Ellie winces, and nods for her to continue. “I kind of ripped him a new one.” Ellie’s eyes widen, and she fiddles with her hands. 

“El, he feels bad. I’m not gonna promise I’ll be nice to him, but I’ll be civil if you two make up. You know that, right? I’d never, ever judge you for still wanting to be friends with him.”

Ellie smiles a little, and reaches out to grab Aster’s hand. “Thanks, Aster.” 

“But! He has to apologize to you first!” Ellie nods solemnly. “And! Buy you candy!” Ellie giggles. “He also owes you dinner, a new shirt, and a book report of The Stranger.” Ellie snorts, covering her mouth to avoid disturbing the library. Aster keeps talking, mumbling silly things she knows will make Ellie laugh. The librarian eventually has to come tell them to leave, having received one too many complaints about the two girls. 

Ellie decides to meet with Paul on a Saturday night, but it falls on the same night as Aster’s final volleyball game of the season. And Aster tells her it’s no big deal, grinning anyways when she sees the shorter girl dragging the hefty boy through the stands, right to the middle of the bleachers. 

Aster glances at Ellie before she serves, and she notices the hungry way Ellie’s eyes trace over her thighs, before making their way to her face. Ellie blushes when Aster winks at her, and the first serve is an ace. 

Their points stack up quickly, and soon enough they’ve won two games out of three, and Ellie’s clapping for her proudly in the stands. 

The two are waiting for her in the foyer of the sports center when she walks out, trading numbers with Stacy, another teammate who she’s befriended over the past few months. She hands the dark-haired girl her phone back, and turns to Ellie smiling. Ellie holds out her arms, and Aster leaps in, burying her face in Ellie’s hair. 

“You did  _ so  _ good, Aster. Seriously, that was amazing.” Ellie looks at her, eyes shining brightly, and Aster grins and looks away, swiping the sweat from her brow. 

“Yeah, good job, Aster.” Paul says timidly, and she cuts her eyes at him.

“Mm-hm.” Ellie swats her arms, and Aster loops it with her own, pulling Ellie towards the diner across from the sports center. 

“Come on, I want a champion’s milkshake.” 

Aster’s paintings are a lot less… angry lately, but she can’t seem to find inspiration. She’s tapping her brush against her lips, staring at a stark white canvas, when Professor De Leon spots her. 

“Well, I’d never thought I’d live to see the day where Aster Flores gets art-block.” Aster rolls her eyes at the older woman. 

“Yeah, yeah, okay, so I’m having trouble getting… inspired. What do I do?” She looks to the professor, who raises her eyebrows at her. 

“That depends, Aster. If you’re struggling to draw inspiration from yourself, you could always  _ try  _ the prompt.” Aster scoffs, looking at the chalkboard. 

“Professor, with all due respect, you know I  _ suck  _ and portraiture, right? You said it yourself:  _ emotionless, cold, lacking in meaning.”  _ Professor De Leon laughs, and nods her head. 

“I do remember. But, portraits don’t always have to be a painting of someone’s face, you know? It could be abstract, like you like, it could be a portrait of how this person makes you feel, or what this person means to you.” Aster nods, and she feels it. The tingle of excitement in her fingers when she gets a new idea, or when colors start meshing in her mind. 

“Okay. Okay, I’ll do that.” Professor De Leon grins, walking back to her desk. 

She squirts a bit of red onto her palette, and soon enough she’s standing, breathless and, admittedly,  _ late  _ for her next class, but she knows she can pluck the notes off of anyone in the class, so she stays, standing five feet back from the easel. 

The painting ignites something in her, something that makes her fingers twitch, and her hair stand on end. It feels like electricity, like a magnetic field drawing her in to where she needs to be. She knows who it’s for, who will be receiving this painting. 

Aster directs a quick wave to her professor, before snagging the canvas off the easel, and booking it out the door on the path to her next class. 

Walking around with her painting has been, yes, precarious, but it’s also felt like she’s been touring campus with her diary flipped open, printed on her forehead, for everyone to read. She feels cool relief when she jams her key into the lock, stumbling into her room. 

“Aster, hey!” Ellie pauses whatever she’s watching on her laptop, and her eyes immediately catch on the canvas in Aster’s hand. 

“Ooh, a painting! Let me see!” Aster takes a deep breath, and flips the canvas so the shorter girl can see it. She hears Ellie’s sharp inhale, and, “Is this… this is,  _ amazing,  _ I-” 

“It’s for you, I made it for you. It’s… a portrait, kind of.” Ellie’s eyes widen, glancing up at Aster, before taking it from the taller girl’s hand. She stands, and her eyes flick from the painting to Aster, searching for something Aster desperately tries to show her, hoping she sees in her. 

“I- I know how you feel.” Ellie moves infinitesimally closer, testing the waters, and Aster  _ longs  _ to kiss her, is  _ going  _ to kiss her, when-

A loud beeping interrupts them, and Ellie blinks dazedly, before recognizing the sound. “Sorry,” She mutters, stepping away, and digs her phone out of her bag. 

_ “Ba? Zěnmeliǎo? Zhèlǐ de tiānqì hěn hǎo! Bù, bà, xiànzài dōu méiyǒu xià yǔ!”  _ Ellie looks apologetically at Aster, and her voice is clipped on the phone with her father. Aster can barely choke up a smile, let alone words, and she falls back on her bed in exasperation. 

Ellie hangs up, after a fifteen minute conversation that makes sure the moment is  _ officially  _ ruined, although Aster can’t say the sound of Ellie speaking Mandarin doesn’t turn her on a  _ little  _ bit. Ellie glances at her for a minute, before turning around awkwardly, the painting still dangling from her fingertips. 

Aster listens to her rummage around, and she doesn’t look up until it’s over, lifting her head to see the painting hanging above Ellie’s desk. Ellie’s staring at it, and she tips her head a little bit to the side. 

“It’s a great painting, Aster.” And Aster just smiles wildly, cursing fate, or God, or serendipity for making cell phones. 

  
  


Iowa gets dreadful rainstorms on Thanksgiving break, and neither Ellie nor Aster have decided to cross the country to make it home in time for the holiday. They jog to the dining hall, huddling under a single umbrella, and they nearly trip over themselves when they reach the door. Aster shivers when they get inside, and she nearly swoons when Ellie sheds her oversized jacket and hands it to Aster. 

“Thank you,” She doesn’t like how her voice sounds to her own ears, gooey and warm, like an undercooked chocolate chip cookie. But Ellie looks back at her with eyes of the same consistency, and Aster could kiss her right here, right now. 

Instead, they head into the dining hall, flashing their meal cards at the administrator at the door, and are immediately waved over by some of Aster’s volleyball teammates. Aster looks at Ellie to see if she’s comfortable, and Ellie nods with bright eyes. 

“Hey, Flores! Didn’t know you were stuck here over break?” Aster nods, setting her tray down at the table, and scooting to make room for Ellie next to her. 

“I wouldn’t call it ‘stuck’, per say. It’d be more like… I don’t know… a stay-cation!” The girls laugh, and Ellie chuckles beside her. 

“What about you, Ellie?” Amanda, the ginger-haired girl asks, twisting a strand of hair around her finger. She’s flirting, a fact that Aster identifies nearly a half second after she opens her mouth.

“Oh yeah, same here, really. It’d be nice to see my dad, but I’m happy being here.” She brushes her thigh against Aster’s, and Aster grins triumphantly. Amanda nods, and leans closer to the shorter girl, who tilts her head in confusion. 

“That’s so sweet, are you close to your dad?” Aster rolls her eyes, and Ellie responds, her voice a little stilted because of Amanda’s sudden interest. 

The night carries on with more laughter, and conversation, and a  _ lot  _ more of Amanda’s shameless flirting, and Aster can feel the waves of possessiveness rolling off of her in spades. She basically drags Ellie by the wrist back to their dorm room, after she finished her slice of pumpkin pie. 

“Aster, hold on, are you okay?” Ellie questions, as Aster unlocks their door quickly. She stumbles into the room, and turns back to Ellie, her heart pounding. 

“Ellie…” She breathes, stepping closer to the shorter girl. Recognition dawns in Ellie’s eyes, and when Aster’s palms settle over her hips, Ellie’s arms raise to loop around her neck. 

“Aster…” Ellie aligns their bodies flush against one another, fitting together like puzzle pieces, and Aster sighs at the feeling. She leans down, further, watching as Ellie’s eyes drift closed, and- 

It’s the best kiss she’s ever had. Where her kisses with boys had always been… rough, Ellie’s lips are soft, and wet, and warm, and her bottom lip fits perfectly between Aster’s, and Aster smiles when Ellie makes a soft noise of approval, raising up on her toes slightly. 

They break apart with a pop, and Ellie looks dazed, not far from how Aster feels, and she leans back in, craving the feeling of  _ Ellie,  _ and the warmth that comes with it. 

They kiss for what feels like hours, and things are starting to get heavy, Ellie’s hands up the back of Aster’s shirt, and Aster’s lips mouthing around Ellie’s pulse point., when Ellie pulls back. 

“Okay,” She murmurs, breathlessly. Aster pouts, drawing the smaller girl in closer, but she doesn’t move to kiss her again. Ellie smiles at her expression, and moves to fix her hair, the mussed brown curls wild around her face. 

“There,” She whispers, and kisses Aster’s chin, barely ghosting her bottom lip. “How about we… um, how would you feel if-”

“We’ll take things slow, Ellie. There’s no rush.” Aster smiles crookedly, brushing her thumbs against the skin of Ellie’s hips, soothingly. And Aster thinks, if there’s one thing she’s thankful for, this Thanksgiving, above all, it’s the girl in front of her. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, I'm back with another one! I'm probably going to get the next chapter out within the week, I won't leave you hanging for too long! Let me know if you guys like it! Thank you guys so so much for reading!!


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